


A Night Worth Waiting For

by Miragefiction



Series: Golden Dawn [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Based loosely on their S-Support, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Happy Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Time Skip, There is a little dirty talk but mostly fluff, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miragefiction/pseuds/Miragefiction
Summary: Claude and Byleth are reunited after the war and they move forward with plans to unify their kingdoms. The first step? A wedding, of course! Claude's mother provides some timely advice, Byleth is impatient, but some things are worth the wait.





	A Night Worth Waiting For

He was back. He was back! 

His last letter has said it would be soon, but he had also said that months ago. Soon had become an unfortunately relative term between them. A few weeks had turned into a few months, soon had turned into sooner rather than later, sooner than another five years she had continued to hope. 

He’d proposed and immediately ran off to right the wrongs in another country, and she almost resented him for it, but not really. His unwavering idealism was one of the reasons she loved him, after all. 

Still, she had missed him terribly. He’d left her with the heavy responsibility of ruling a newly reforged kingdom, with only a promise of his eventual return and an emerald engagement ring. 

But he was finally back, with a siege-breaking army and such perfect timing she could only conclude it had been the plan all along. She would have been angry if she hadn’t been so desperately happy. 

She ran through the halls of the monastery, startling servants and soldiers alike, until she came to a sliding stop at the top of the stairs. 

“Byleth!” 

His voice rang through the hall and she saw him walk through the entrance at the head of his guard, shining and golden and covered in dirt and a splash of blood. 

Beautiful. 

She practically flew down the stairs and into his arms. 

He caught her, turning her almost violent momentum into a spinning embrace. 

She wasn’t sure who kissed who first, or if it really mattered, but they were kissing now, so deeply and intensely the crowd around them broke into cheers and laughter when they continued unabated. 

“Ahem...Your highness...?” A young page boy tugged at Claude’s cape. 

They ignored him. 

“Your highness!”

The broke apart reluctantly and turned in the direction of the interruption with no small amount of annoyance. 

“Yes, what is it?” They answered in unison.

“Your mother, sir, she sent me to tell you that she’s entered the village with her retinue.”

Byleth went rigid with surprise. “Your... mother?”

“Oh, sorry I didn't include that detail in my last letter,” Claude said breathlessly. “She insisted on accompanying me back from Almyra. She wants to meet you and to help with the wedding arrangements.”

Wedding arrangements...!

“Oh... of-of course...!” Byleth stammered, feeling a little dizzy. It was finally happening! Excitement and anxiety rushed through her in sudden waves, but her face remained calm only through much experience. A slight hitch in her voice gave her away. “L-Let’s go and meet her then.”

The next few days were a blur. 

The Almyran forces and royal retinue filled the halls of the monastery near to bursting, and everywhere there were people rushing about, harried staff, crowds of nobles and commoners alike cluttering the halls, and a lot of laughter. 

Claude’s mother was a large, statuesque woman with a cold green glare that could cut steel, but Byleth quickly learned that this hid a kind and generous soul. She helped Byleth immensely by patiently explaining all the expected Almyran traditions and supplying her dress and jewelry for the wedding. 

The ceremony was quickly set for only two weeks after his arrival. Claude and Byleth were both done waiting, they agreed, and with the war now truly behind them they needed to show a united front. What better way than a literal marriage of cultures? That, and they could barely keep their hands off each other. 

Marriage. 

She had been thinking on the subject quite a bit since his departure, mind wandering during endless meetings and political discussions that came with ruling a country. She would twist his ring around her finger when she was trying to focus, which often had the opposite effect. She was anxious to share her duties with him again, her thoughts, feelings... she lay awake at night in her huge four poster bed and wondered what it would be like to share it with him. 

To share everything of herself with him. 

She flushed red just thinking about it. A wave of impatient desire washed over her, and she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to lie with him, to be held and touched and made love to. 

She squirmed anxiously, excited and embarrassed all at once. 

Only a few more days...!

She had barely seen him since his timely arrival, and even when they were together they were very often not alone, either with one or more of a dozen of the other lords or monastery staff, assembled together in more meetings, or with his mother. 

The brief moments of respite between all the planning and entertaining were bittersweet, long heated gazed across a room, a few stolen kisses, wandering hands and feet under the table. 

She was practically aching for him by the day of the wedding. 

“Have you been educated on your marital duties, my child?” Duchess Riegan asked her rather boldly over tea a few nights before. 

“...Duties?” Byleth asked cautiously.

“Yes... My son has told me you do not have your own mother to confide in with intimate questions. Is there anything I may... elucidate for you? Do you have any worries?”

“About...?”

The duchess sighed. “About the marriage bed. Sex, dear.”

“Oh!” Byleth exclaimed, nearly dropping her teacup. “Oh, th-that. Thank you, but... ah...”

“No need to be shy, dear. It would be wise to have a few heirs to rule over such an expansive new kingdom. I hope I will not have to wait long for a grandchild or two. I started a bit late, so we only managed the one, but I imagine you won’t have the same problem.”

Byleth sat down her cup a little too forcefully, clattering it in the saucer. “Oh... P-perhaps.”

“So, any questions then?”

Byleth was quiet for a long while, trying to collect her thoughts and buoy her courage. “I... I’m not worried, but... if you have any advice... I must admit I am... inexperienced.”

The duchess smiled at her, and shook her head in wonder. “How did my son find such a girl in this day and age?”

Byleth frowned, feeling a little insulted. “Umm...”

“I do not mean to make fun, child. I’m just surprised. You are a smart match, there is no denying it, but my son... well, he has questionable tastes in many ways. The two of you are very different. At first I assumed your engagement was a purely political move on his part, but I can see now how wrong I was. He loves you deeply, a mother can tell, and I believe he will do everything in his power to treat you well. But he is still a man, and therefore must be managed.”

“How do you mean?”

The duchess sat back in her chair, smiling with one eyebrow quirked in a way that was so familiar Byleth found herself staring. “You must be firm with your needs, and unashamed to voice them,” the duchess said firmly. “If you have a particular desire, or dislike the way you are being handled, do not hesitate to tell him so in no uncertain terms. A marriage is a partnership in every way, particularly one such as yours, and you must start on even footing even in the bedroom.”

Byleth nodded slowly in amazement. “I... I see...”

“If he's anything like his father, my boy may have quite the appetite. If it hurts, stop. Take your time and enjoy each other. Don’t let him run you ragged, unless that’s what you prefer, of course.” 

Byleth blinked and felt herself blush red to her ears. “That... that won't be a problem.”

The older woman laughed. “Good! I think you’re truly well matched, then. I haven’t seen you on the battlefield, but I’ve heard the tales... if you’re anything like what they say, I think you’ll be able to hold your own.”

Byleth smiled a little. “I think so, too. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear. And here, you may find this useful.”

The duchess handed her a small leather-bound book. The title was Almyran, but the illustration on the front cover of two lovers in an intimate embrace made it clear what the subject matter was. 

Byleth quickly pocketed it in the sleeve of her cloak. “Th-Thank you.”

She thought long and hard about the duchesses’ words that night, and throughout the morning of the wedding as she was bathed and dressed. The events of the day would begin early, extending through all three meals and into the night, including bonfires, dancing, and much too many people. 

Her wedding dress was beautiful, made entirely of the lightest, gauzy white fabric she’d ever seen. It was wrapped and belted around her so elaborately she was unsure if she could ever get it off without assistance, but perhaps that was the point. It was the most beautiful and impractical thing she’d ever worn. They paired it with jewels that matched her hair and eyes, and draped her with copious amounts of golden bangles that jingled at her hips, wrists, and ankles. The headdress was strands of delicate beads secured with golden clasps, ornaments like small antlers carefully pinned above each ear. Her soon to be mother-in-law applied the final touches of makeup herself, dabbing pearlescent powder on Byleth’s cheeks and carefully staining her lips a deep, striking red. 

When it was done Byleth felt soft and glittery, and very, very self-conscious. 

Claude’s wide-eyed look of utter amazement followed by a long swallow when he saw her was extremely satisfying, though. 

He too was dressed in wedding whites, belted and sashed in gold and green, shiny and as handsome as ever. Recovering slightly, he took her hand and gave her a familiar wink. 

“What are you all dolled up for, Teach? Going out with someone special tonight?”

“You could say that,” she said with a breathy laugh. 

“Must be quite a lucky fellow.”

“I count myself lucky as well. He’s quite a catch.”

He grinned brilliantly at that and she felt a little light headed. 

The morning’s activities passed too quickly, and she found herself barely able to eat at the lavish breakfast, nerves jangling like the bangles at her feet. She must have spoken to dozens of people, but she remembered practically nothing of the conversation. The rest of the morning was spent in the chapel, priests from Almyra and what was left of the reformed Church of Seiros both giving their blessings in elaborate detail. She glanced across the aisle at Claude and he smiled at her and pretended to snore for a moment before Seteth cleared his throat and they both schooled their expressions back to solemnity with some difficulty. 

Another meal of somewhat lighter fare followed, mostly grains and vegetables, vibrant colors and delicate spices and bright, bubbly drinks. Byleth ate a little and felt better. 

Halfway through...! 

The afternoon was reserved for the actual ceremony. They stood surrounded by their families and friends in the sunlight and pledged themselves to each other, walking through water and jumping over a pit of smoldering coals, drinking out of the same cup, feeding each other a piece of fruit, and then finally sharing a long kiss under the Goddess Tower. It felt very odd now to kiss him in front of a crowd when before it had been so inconsequential. This kiss was a promise, a contract, and so much more. 

It was a wonderful day that she could barely remember, all except the way he looked at her, firelight reflected in his eyes, and said “I do.”

When it was done, a wave of relief and happiness flooded through her, but the night was not over yet. 

Then came the dinner party. 

They stayed and danced for a while, happiness radiating from them both, lighting more bonfires and tossing wreaths of herbs and flowers into crowds of eager young people. Byleth was gratified to see that Cyril had caught one to give to Lysithea, who played at grumpiness at the presentation, but underneath was clearly pink and pleased. 

The party continued late into the night, but they bid their farewells early, dodging handfuls of rice as they ran through the courtyard to where his great white wyvern waited, decorated with garlands of fragrant white flowers. Claude pulled her up into the saddle behind him with practiced ease and they were off, soaring through the skies. They flew a slow circuit around the buildings and town, waving to the crowds gathered below and outside the gates. Byleth threw more flowers, and everywhere people were clapping and cheering and happy. 

This was the peace they had fought so hard for, the people they had brought together in celebration. Happy tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as they swooped once more through the skies and then landed neatly on the terrace. He dismounted first and scooped her up to carry her across the hall and into the bedroom. 

Finally, finally they were alone. 

She dropped lightly to her feet but didn’t break the embrace, arms locked around his neck. He was grinning so broadly that she caught mostly teeth in her first kiss, which made her laugh and he kissed her back, so eagerly and intensely she shuddered and gasped, still shaking with laughter. 

“You’ve got rice in your hair,” she observed. 

“You’ve got just about the whole treasury in yours. Will it hurt if I...?”

He gently plucked at a string of beads and she helped him carefully unpin the headdress and lay it on her dressing table. The bangles followed, chiming softly.

The sash and belt were next to go. She had to spin, revolving slowly, as he held one end to unravel it all. Soon it was an untidy pile at their feet. It hadn’t been as complicated as she has worried, but an extra set of hands had certainly helped.

His belting was dealt with in a similar fashion, jacket gone soon after. Soon he was just in a clean white tunic and pants, and her in what felt like nothing but thin a white drape of gauze. 

“I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, but you keep proving me wrong.” He said, sighing appreciatively.

Without all the ornamentation and flashy garb he looked different too, more real. It made her heart flutter and legs tremble, but she reached up and pulled the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She was completely bare underneath.

He was rendered speechless for a moment and she felt flush with wonder at her own boldness. 

“...C-case in point...” he mumbled.

She stepped forward and started to unbutton his collar. He watched her with hooded eyes, holding very still until she laid a hand into his bare chest. It was very warm, and covered in a fine layer of dark hair. His heart was beating very fast. 

Slowly, he shrugged out of the arms of his shirt and gathered her into an embrace. The feeling of his bare skin against her was exhilarating. He seemed larger out of his clothes, broader and more masculine. He even smelled good, like spice and sweat and tea. He had held her before, many times, but somehow she’d never realized that his arms were twice the thickness of her own, his chest alone as broad as the entire span of her shoulders. 

He was very warm, but she shivered against him.

He kissed her very gently, almost carefully, as if he might break her. She kissed him back with much less care, and soon all hesitation burned away between them.

She took hold of the top of his trousers and pulled him down onto the bed with her, their legs dangling over the edge. 

The feel of him on top of her, pressing down and practically into her, was better than she could have ever imagined. They kissed for what felt like hours but must have been only mere moments, hands wandering, soft brushes of palms over heated flesh, gently at first and then with more urgency. 

He lavished her breasts with an almost reverent attention, cupping them and kneading them gently, tickling and rolling her nipples with his fingers and tongue. She sighed and quivered under him, feeling like her whole body was melting. She could certainly get used to this type of worship. 

He kissed down her belly and along the inside of her thigh, tongue tracing a ticklish line downwards. 

“Oh... Are you...?” She asked, not quite sure what she was asking, exactly. 

“May I...?” He said, kissing her very gently on the top of her mound. It was quite obvious what he was asking, eyes dark and hungry. He licked his lips and she thought she might explode at just the sight. 

She somehow managed to answer. “Y-Yes... Please...”

He must have studied that book too, she thought in a daze. Of course he did...!

She tried to relax her tight belly and control her breathing but nothing could really prepare her for the rush of wet pleasure that filled her as he began to explore her most intimate of areas with his mouth. 

She already feeling over sensitive and heated, and this attention sent her soaring. 

“Oh... Oh great goddess above and hellfires below...!”

He chuckled against her appreciatively, sending vibrations up through her. 

It felt utterly divine, like her whole body had been reduced to a single point of white hot sensation and he was currently teasing it with his tongue. 

She ran her fingers over his shoulders and through his hair, not pressing him down, but desperate for some movement. He held her fast by the hips, the slow exploration turning into more of a steady rhythm that made her even more frantic. 

“Oh... Oh...!”

A sudden, unstoppable wave crashed over her from the top of her head all the way down to her toes, every muscle pulled tight as a bow string and shuddering as she came with an explosive cry. Still, he kept at her, riding it out with her, lapping with some force until she had to twist her hand in his hair to pull him up. 

“Mmm... You seem like you enjoyed that.” He said, looking for all the world as if he was the cat who got the canary. 

She just nodded in agreement, too spent to even speak for a moment. “Th... thank you. That was... amazing,” she sighed. 

“Mmm. Good. I’ve been dreaming about doing that since I was seventeen...”

Her eyes opened wide and she rolled to gape at him in amazement. “You have not!”

“Are you kidding me? Those tights you used to wear to class drove me wild. The thought of getting my face inside those things kept me real warm on cold, lonely nights in the dorms.”

She wasn’t sure how she could possibly feel embarrassed to hear him talk like that after such an act, but as always, he exceeded her expectations. “You wanted to... do... that...?”

“And lots of other things, besides,” he said with a grin. “I just about had a heart attack the first time you dropped some chalk and bent over in front of everyone. Pretty sure Sylvain had to change his pants.”

She was laughing now, embarrassment quickly replaced with shared mirth. “Oh, you’re absolutely terrible!”

“You’re the one who wore those tiny shorts in a classroom full of pent-up teenagers. I’m frankly shocked Rhea even let you in the monastery in that get up.”

She pushed him in the shoulder playfully. “Hey, I liked my clothes!”

“I liked them, too! Maybe a little too much...”

“At least it seemed to help you pay attention..!”

“Yeah, to your legs. I could barely take my eyes off of them.”

She couldn’t stop laughing, now. “Oh, stop it! You were a great student. If anything you were trying too hard. Were all your exemplary certification exams just to get into my... good graces? I’d never seen a boy so eager to please.”

“Oof, you’re really going below the belt with that one, Teach.”

“D-don’t call me that in bed!” 

“I’ll do my best,” he sighed dramatically and kissed her. She could taste herself on him and it sent her spinning again. “Now, where were we...?”

He collected into another warm embrace. She splayed a hand over his broad chest, feeling his thundering heartbeat. “I think it’s your turn,” she said softly.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

“Would you like me to... try that, too?” She offered, taking his hand and bringing it up to her lips. She took one of his fingers into her mouth and stroked it with her tongue in a way that it was impossible to mistake her meaning. 

His eyes widened and unfocused for a moment before clearing again. “Th-that... That would be... Over too quickly, I think. I’d rather have you just like this.” 

He rolled on top of her again, and she welcomed him eagerly.

He was still wearing his trousers, but she could feel the urgent swell of him through the fabric, jutting into her leg with obvious intent. 

She reached down and palmed him, delighting in the jolt it sent through his body. She struggled with his lacing one-handed for a moment before he sat back and stood up to extricate himself. 

She watched with large, heavy-lidded eyes. 

She had seen nude men before, in paintings and illustrations, or even in passing when she was still in her father’s mercenary company. The group had often bathed together in public baths or rivers, and no one had been particularly modest, even in front of their leader’s daughter. She had even been propositioned a few times, but had always rebuffed them quite soundly. She never had any interest in lovers until fairly recently. She never had an interest in much of anything, anyone, until she met him. 

She was very, very interested now. 

He was not like a painting, not at all, and not like the men her father employed either. He was darker, thicker, and standing at attention like an eager soldier. 

Her mouth went a little dry. 

Would that... fit? 

She swallowed, hard. 

Gods, I hope so.

He crawled back onto the bed and on top of her, one arm to each side of her head, his eyes trailing over her figure slowly and then gazing at her face with such open lust it made her squirm. Tightness pooled in her belly again, desire coursing through her like a river. She still was still wet and trembling with her remembered climax, and in that moment she wanted nothing else but to be filled by him. 

He took her hand, lacing their fingers together and kissed her knuckles, his other hand trailing down to rest on her hip. “I love you... more than I thought it was possible to love anyone, anything. More than the moon and stars.”

She shouldn’t have laughed at that, but it broke out of her in a nervous rush. He didn’t seem offended, though. He leaned down and kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck in sudden desperation. 

“I love you. So much. Too much.” She said, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I can barely stand it. How does anyone feel... this much...?”

It was his turn to laugh, but instead of his usual easy chuckle it was almost a gasp, his breath caught on it and stuck. She looked up at him.

Oh.

There were tears in his eyes, too. 

When he kissed her yet again it held so much, love and lust, yearning and aching... so much and too much. His fingers dug into her hip, and he leaned down to press his body into her. 

“Ah...!”

“R-ready?”

She bit her lip and nodded swiftly. “Yes. Oh, yes...!”

He sat up a little straighter, adjusting his position a little more, brushing against her, up and down, then slowly into her again, more, deeper and deeper until she could barely believe there could possibly be any more. Her legs shook with it all, but there was no pain, and barely any friction at all, just a smooth, easy slide until he was fully seated inside her. They lay there for a moment, still, except for an unmistakable throb of heat between them. 

His breathing was ragged and voice all gravel when he asked, “Are you... okay...?”

She nodded again, a little light-headed. “A-are you?”

He laughed again, more of his usual cadence, and it sent a rumble throughout her whole body. “Oh... I’m perfect.” 

Oh, and he was. 

It was not too much, but just enough. He was stretching her so open and wide in a way she hadn’t thought could possibly feel good, but it did. Her body was so greedy for him, so accepting, she could only marvel at it. She felt like she would overflow at any moment. It felt terribly, intensely good. 

The pace he set was surely intended to be slow and deliberate, all gently rolling hips and sighs, but she started moaning and rising off the bed to meet him and it seemed to break his tenuous control. They soon fell into an almost frantic passion. She held on for dear life, clutching at him with every limb and muscle, arching her back with every eager thrust.

It was a different sensation than the ticklish teasing from before. This was his other side, the gleaming facade broken into pure need and hunger, deep and powerful and desperate. It was everything she wanted and more. 

He drove into her impossibly faster and she gasped and shuddered, hips bucking and toes curling as another orgasm took her. He rode her for a moment more before he choked on a groan and went rigid, jerking against her three more times before she felt a rush of warmth flood inside her. The sensation as much as the knowledge of what it meant made her shiver all over. 

He leaned forward over her again, chest heaving with every breath, barely holding himself up on his elbows. She pulled him down into a long, sloppy kiss. 

“Another teenage daydream come true?” She asked hoarsely. 

He laughed into the curve of her neck, peppering her with more lazy kisses. “Ah... Ha... Even my imagination is not that good.” 

She squeezed him with her thighs and he groaned a little. “Mmm,” she sighed. “Mine either... Wow.”

“Wow, she says, when she’s drained my entire soul from my body...” He muttered, but she felt him grin against her neck. “You can keep it.” 

“I think I will.”


End file.
